Chapter 6 - The Moretti Threat
The mercy Anthony had shown to Toby did not go unnoticed by his enemies.
By the end of the week, the tension in the Pellagrini mansion had reached a boiling point. The perimeter guards were doubled, their automatic weapons visible through the tall iron gates. The security boats patrolled the private lake every thirty minutes, their searchlights cutting through the humid summer nights.
Samantha spent her evenings in the library, trying to distract herself from the looming threat of war.
"You're not sleeping," a deep voice broke the quiet.
She looked up to find Anthony standing in the doorway, wearing a simple black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing the dark, intricate tattoos of daggers and roses that covered his skin.
"It's hard to sleep when the house is surrounded by men with guns," Samantha said, setting her book down.
Anthony walked into the room, sitting on the leather sofa opposite her. He looked tired, the faint shadows under his eyes betraying the weight of the war he was currently fighting. "The Morettis are desperate. The federal grand jury is indicting their leadership next month. They need my docks to move their assets before the asset seizure begins."
"And if you don't give them the docks?"
"Then they will try to take what matters to me," Anthony said, his gaze moving to the ceiling, where Luca’s bedroom was located. He then looked back at Samantha, his eyes softening. "And what matters to me has expanded recently."
Samantha felt a sudden, electric warmth spread through her chest. She looked at his hands—large, powerful, capable of absolute violence, yet so incredibly gentle when they touched his son. Or her.
"Why did you choose this life, Anthony?" she asked softly.
Anthony let out a dry, bitter laugh. "I didn't choose it, Samantha. My father was the Don. When I was twelve, I watched him get gunned down in a restaurant in Hartford. I had to take the mantle to keep my mother and sister from being slaughtered by the other families. In my world... you either rule, or you are destroyed."
He stood up, walking over to her chair. He bent down, resting his hands on the armrests, trapping her in his space. The scent of his cedarwood cologne wrapped around her, making her pulse race.
"But when I look at you, Samantha..." he whispered, his face inches from hers. "I see a life that doesn't smell like blood. I see a home."
Before she could answer, his lips met hers.
The kiss was not gentle; it was hungry, desperate, filled with the raw, possessive intensity of a man who had finally found something worth keeping in a world of shadows. Samantha gasped against his mouth, her hands instinctively reaching up to clutch his shoulders, her fingers sinking into the soft silk of his shirt.
May you like
She knew it was madness. She was a maid; he was a mafia boss. But in his arms, the danger of the outside world faded into nothingness, replaced by a burning, irresistible desire that had been building since the moment he grabbed her wrist by the pool.
He pulled back slowly, his eyes dark with a fierce, unyielding devotion. "I will protect you, Samantha. No matter what it takes. You are mine now."
